Three years old is a wilderness. I’m back in the desert. I’m wandering, like Moses, with a little stiff-necked person in tow, and I’m crying out to God. ‘Lord, what would you have me to do with this one? For soon she will stone me.’
Okay, I’m being a little dramatic. I find myself once again in the realm of the toddler, after so many years in the Promised Land of kids who can wash themselves and put on their own clothes.
I have to say that doing this again as an ‘older’ mother has changed my perspective in many ways. As a young mother, I was what I would consider large-and-in-charge. I felt determination in certain areas that related to my kids’ behaviour, and I did what it took to make them toe the line.
